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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27108607">i wrote it down, but i couldn't read it</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/certifiedclown/pseuds/certifiedclown'>certifiedclown</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Abused Harry Potter, Bisexual Harry Potter, Book 5: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Dark Harry Potter, Established Sirius Black/Remus Lupin, Good Albus Dumbledore, Harry Has Issues, Harry Has Secrets, Harry Potter is a Horcrux, Horcruxes, Kinda, M/M, Manipulative Tom Riddle, Mind Control, Mind Meld, No Plot, Only Self-Indulgence, Past Albus Dumbledore/Gellert Grindelwald, Redeemed Dudley Dursley, Severus Snape Has a Heart, Severus Snape Redemption, Sirius Black Lives, Soul Bond, Tom Riddle is His Own Warning, Tom Riddle's Diary, Under the Influence of Horcruxes, Young Tom Riddle, a kind of redemption? but not really?, a little bit, also hermione is black, and ginny is also trans, and harry is indian, as a treat, but not all at once bc that's bullshit, everyone is at least somewhat gay, good things for harry, he was just a kid and he can learn to be better and so he will, he's not good but he's not wholly bad either, i want jk to read this and fucking weep, kinda??, like in canon only it's fukcing Addressed, my fucking rules bitch!!!!!!, none of that "for the greater good" bulllshit, petunia redemption, this is my world now, tom is trans bc jk would hate that and i love to displease her, unintentional but it's still a Thing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 16:33:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,571</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27108607</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/certifiedclown/pseuds/certifiedclown</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>-----stay,<i> his mind whispers, <b><i>stay with me-----<b><i></i></b></i></b></i></i>
</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Harry Potter &amp; Severus Snape, Harry Potter &amp; Tom Riddle, Harry Potter/Tom Riddle, Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort, Harry Potter/Voldemort, Hermione Granger &amp; Harry Potter &amp; Ron Weasley, Remus Lupin &amp; Harry Potter, Sirius Black &amp; Harry Potter, Sirius Black &amp; Remus Lupin &amp; Harry Potter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>76</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>i wrote it down, but i couldn't read it</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em> Hello there, </em> something in his head whispers, something that feels deeply dark and dreaming as it reaches out to the foreign presence in his skull, seeking out that which <em>does not belong </em>----</p><p> </p><p>His mind almost always feels like---like a shadow---empty, dark, unfeeling, if not for the presence that always lurks at the edges, toeing at the line between consciousness and not, a tool always hard at work, shielding and protecting against everything but itself. And it is fast, faster than any human could ever hope to be---a simple impulse, a synapse firing, traveling through his brain as soon as it comes into being. And it looks for the new presence with heavy intent.</p><p> </p><p><em> Hello, </em> his mind sings, deeply delighted, warm and welcoming, blood coating the words thickly---so, <em> so </em>warm, so, <em> so </em>welcoming. <em> Hello. Intruder. Hello, hello, hello. Welcome, welcome, hello. </em></p><p> </p><p>His vision fades back in and he realizes, distantly, that he's still in the classroom, staring into Snape's dark eyes, the unknown presence pressing against the shadows, listening to the resonating croons and cajoling calls of the known one. His temple throbs and his head begins to feel heavy, dark, drifting.</p><p> </p><p>He thinks he closes his eyes. Why else would it be so dark? Or maybe it's the color of Snape's eyes overtaking his vision---the dark of his pupils. Maybe he didn't blink at all.</p><p> </p><p><em> Come in, come in, </em> his mind says sweetly, <em> come in, come in, come in. </em></p><p> </p><p>Harry thinks he might blink again because it's no longer dark and he's meeting Snape's unyielding stare once more.</p><p> </p><p>The familiar something in his head curls at the edges, caressing his mind as he swirls itself around it, reaching in further and further before it consolidates in the middle, spreading thinly to cover it all, webbing his brain in something black and <em>breathing---alive. </em></p><p> </p><p>His scar tingles pleasantly.</p><p> </p><p><em> Intruder, where are you? </em> his mind drawls, flexing and undulating, tone saccharine, and smooth. <em> Where are you? I can hear you. I can smell you. You can't hide. </em></p><p> </p><p>An unreadable emotion flickers in Snape's eyes too fast for him to see and the <em>something </em>in his head hisses in satisfaction---a sibilant tone, lingering sinisterly. The hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. But his scar heats up and warmth blooms in his chest. He feels----</p><p> </p><p><em> You can stay, </em> his mind promises, purring seductively, a biting dark chocolate tinge, <em> I can make room for you; your own little spot. There's plenty of space, I promise. </em></p><p> </p><p>The controlled presence pushes in deeper, harder, searching for something, grasping at stray thoughts and memories and Harry <em>feels----- </em></p><p> </p><p><em> -----stay</em>, his mind whispers, <b> <em>stay with me</em> </b> <em> -----  </em></p><p> </p><p>-----and the presence shudders and withdrawals, leaving his mind free of intruders. The dark thing pauses in its pursuit, almost curiously, and Harry imagines it tilting its head to the side. </p><p> </p><p><em> He left?  </em> his mind ponders, disappointed, and something else he can't name---something that tastes bland and dull---muted. <em> What a pity. </em></p><p> </p><p>It retreats now that there's nothing left to defend against, the shadows seeping into the background, plastering itself to the walls, always there, never intrusive. It's comforting like a lazy Sunday morning at the burrow, Ron's snoring drowning out the chirping of the birds, the sun dancing off his hair. It feels like---home.</p><p> </p><p>And then Harry blinks and he's watching as Snape pants, brows furrowed and lips curled into an unpleasant expression of strained disgust that Harry is intimately familiar with. He can't help but think of Aunt Petunia and her thin reedy neck, straining tendons, and shrill shrieks of displeasure. Snape almost looks like her at times. Dark hair and dark eyes, twisted mouths and angry eyebrows, disdain and disgust, Petunia and Snape---</p><p> </p><p>The presence at the sidelines lurches forward and brushes those thoughts aside with one practiced movement, a single sweep of a shadow, smothering the unpleasant comparison into a dim circle before stowing it away---out of his reach.</p><p> </p><p>Then it leaves and Harry's thoughts come crashing back full force, the comforting darkness of the cupboard fully leaving him now, blinking as if he's awakened from a deep sleep. He feels bleary.</p><p> </p><p>He stops. His head rolls, pulling at a tense spot in his neck and he smiles.</p><p> </p><p>He's exhausted.</p><p> </p><p>"Potter," Snape spits, voice coming out rushed and hissed, "what was that?"</p><p> </p><p>"What was <em> what</em>, Professor?" Harry replies blandly, his tongue moving oddly in his mouth, forming the consonants and vowels strangely. Numb. He feels---numb.</p><p> </p><p>"I will not repeat myself again," the dour man snaps, his face twisted like he's just bitten into a lemon. Harry doesn't answer, staring at the man unhelpfully. An exhale. Harry has always been hard to deal with---hard to deal with and even harder to love. Is this why Snape has always---always <em> hated </em> him--- <em> hated him before he even met him </em> <em> --- </em> despised him right at the start---is this why? Because Harry is so hard---so <em> very </em>hard to love? "Have you researched Occlumency before, Potter?"</p><p> </p><p>"No, sir," Harry answers easily, "I'm afraid I haven't quite had the time to research it, sir."</p><p> </p><p>"Hm," Snape's face pinches oddly before he raises his wand. "Well, for a first attempt that was not as poor as it might have been. Now, close your eyes."</p><p> </p><p>The thought of closing his eyes while Snape points his wand at him does not sit right with Harry. He can't pinpoint why. His head is so fuzzy and cloudy and everything feels all muffled and muddied. He does as he's told, his heavy eyelids slipping closed easily. He feels as though he's half-asleep. The world is a dream.</p><p> </p><p>"Clear your mind, Potter," a cold, drawling voice commands him and he listens. It's easy to let everything go. It's easy to descend into that special, floaty space and stay there. It's cold and warm and not at the same time - such a strange space, such a comforting space. He wonders if this is what it feels like to not exist. Something tells him it's not. "Let go of all emotion...."</p><p> </p><p>The voice fades into the black, swallowed by oblivion. He feels like he's floating, like he's been hit with a particularly powerful <em>Levicorpus</em> - or that he's been submerged, drowned with <em>Aquamenti</em>. He feels dead. He feels alive. He's a soul. The black welcomes him with open arms and he floats towards it willingly, almost eagerly. It wraps dark tendrils around the glowing green of his soul and seeps into the light, tucks it away safely into its mass until he doesn't exist anymore.</p><p> </p><p>It's just the void now.</p><p> </p><p>"Let's go again," a voice snaps, "on the count of three....one - two - three - <em>Legilimens</em>!"</p><p> </p><p>Suddenly, violently, Harry is pulled back into his body. The thing that lives on the edges of his mind surges forward with what he imagines is a snarl - perfect lips curled to reveal perfect teeth. It's attacking something - that same presence from before. Harry knows this presence. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>But it is not welcome.</em>
</p><p> </p><p><em>You had your chance, </em>the thing hisses lowly, snarling tone forced pleasant and polite - a juxtaposition. Harry is comforted by the barely contained rage. <em>But you didn't take it. <strong>Leave.</strong></em></p><p> </p><p>The presence writhes as if it's in pain and Harry imagines the darkly dreaming thing looming over it, prowling around it like a predator. Oddly enough, a panther comes to mind - a great black cat with eyes that glint red and fangs that drip blood. The sight doesn't scare him like some distant part of him thinks it should; instead, it soothes him and he retreats further into the void - the void that the now realizes is the thing. The voice that used to whisper sweet nothings to him when he was so hungry he felt like his stomach was going to tear itself apart, when he was so thirsty he felt like swallowing would produce blood, when his hands were blistered and bleeding, when his fingers were broken and black, when his body hurt and ached and screamed with pain - it was always there for him.</p><p> </p><p>Abruptly, he remembers the voice's name.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Tom.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>The thing - <em>tom, it's tom, it's tom, he's back, he's back, tom's back</em> - stiffens, convulsing around Harry's consciousness with something like startlement. And then it relaxes and expands over him like a warm hug, its voice deep and dark and smooth - what Tom had always sounded like; sweet and caring and just for Harry.</p><p> </p><p><em>I think, </em>it starts, perfectly polite now with nothing strained and furious in its tone - but there's something else in the way it moves around the presence that forced itself into Harry's mind - into <em>their </em>mind - something that speaks volumes of what it wants to do to it - dark tendrils like claws rake across the consciousness and keep it in place before retreating slowly, ever so slowly. A threat - <em>don't come back</em> - made just for Harry, always for Harry. <em>That it's time for you to leave now, Severus.</em></p><p> </p><p>And then it shoves the man out of Harry's head and firmly back into his own body, forming a living, breathing, shifting shield around Harry's mind before cooing softly, <em>oh, how I missed you, darling.</em></p><p> </p><p>Outside of his head, Harry laughs breathlessly, his eyes opening just a sliver, vibrant green now littered with shocking specks of red. He smiles - broadly and charmingly, almost mocking - and Snape pales at the sight. <em>I missed you too, </em>he whispers back.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i reject this reality and substitute my own</p><p>check out my server: <a href="https://discord.gg/UBpDYdQ">spicy hot takes!</a></p><p>and yell at me on tumblr: <a href="https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/hamballlecture">hamballlecture.</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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